Why staring silently ahead on public transport is in, and finger kissing is OUT

I'm a very tactile, loving person. I wear my heart on my sleeve, and my emotions are constantly bubbling underneath the surface.

I feel things very deeply. If I like you, I love you. If you bore me or are a bit of a twerp, you may as well be dead to me. Harsh but true.

I cry quite a few times a week, sometimes for no apparent reason, just a bit of an emotional aerobics, I suppose. If my friends are going through bad times, I'll often cry on my own thinking about them.

Or, that bit at the end of Little Mermaid when King Triton paints Ariel a rainbow and she says softly: "I love you Daddy." Cue Alex in bits on the floor, mascara rivers stylishly ingrained on my blotchy face.

My point is this: I am not your typically uptight, emotionally retarded Brit. I feel extremely at home in the company of fiery, unpredictable people driven by instinct and emotion - for I understand it.

But lately, travelling on the London Underground has led me to question myself. Am I really that comfortable with emotion when it's being demonstrated in a public manner? Or are my miniature disasters only acceptable if it's me, on my own, snivelling into a bag of pretzels?

I was prompted to ask these questions after the last few times I've travelled on the tube. I've been working in Crawley, West Sussex since I started my fabulous new job as a feature writer two weeks ago, but often use the tube to go in and out of London to meet friends.

I went armed with all the usual pre-conceptions northerners hold about travelling on the underground - in fact, about 'that there London' more generally.

"You could fall over in t'street and no-one would look twice at yer..."

"Don't make eye contact with anyone; just bury yer 'ed in t'paper..."

"Not very friendly them Londoners, are they?"

But astonishingly, I found myself to be the frigid, stony faced traveller, while everyone else on the tube journeys I made indulged in my ultimate pet hate...PDA (Public Displays of Affection).

This is not because I'm bitter and single. I've been in plenty of relationships, and I've also been single for over a year now. I know how it is when you first fall in love and feel the need to lick each other's face every now and again.

But DON'T do it in public! It's sooooo cliched and embarrassing for everyone else! Love is definitely a kind of madness, and this becomes clear when you look at people biting each other's noses playfully, kissing each other's fingers, nibbling earlobes and - I kid you not - central line mid July - ADMINISTERING LOVEBITES.

Keep it to yourself, please! Surely these things will be more special and intimate if you do them behind closed doors, away from my horrified eyes and gossipy blog.

So please, everyone. Do what you want between the sheets. But spare me the sight of your foreplay. It's very unclassy.

Off to Marbella for four days now. Bye! x